


yes.

by ToshihikoRin



Category: South Park
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:21:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22861681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToshihikoRin/pseuds/ToshihikoRin
Summary: twenny with no context.that's it. that's the plot.
Relationships: Kenny McCormick/Tweek Tweak
Comments: 5
Kudos: 34





	yes.

there’s something oddly domestic with waking up by Tweek’s side. and no, you’re not just saying that because you’re extremely gay for him; though that does play a big factor in it. 

anyways, you wake up. 

judging the view from your window (which is still open from last night’s breaking and entering), you deem it far too early to be up and promptly settle back in. it’s tight, sharing a single bed with another person. you two make it work. 

fun fact: he hogs the covers, so you’re always cold. today especially, since the sun hasn’t come out yet. 

okay, it might also be because of the open window. and your heater doesn’t work  _ all _ the time, so. there’s a lot of different factors. 

( and he’s tugging the blankets nearer to him, the traitor. ) 

you should close the window. try turning on the heater, maybe. but... the bed. you’d have to leave the bed. 

are you willing to risk comfort over not freezing off your fingers? 

Tweek groans, peeking over the bundle. his hair is an absolute disaster, as always, and he’ll have to sacrifice one of Karen’s many hairbrushes to tone it down. the thought makes you smile, despite the stiffness of your face. 

puffy eyes blink blearily. the male lifts the blanket up– a silent invitation. you shift closer, knees knocking against his. he grunts, dropping the material over your side. 

it’s warm, you note delightedly. a welcome change. 

“Mhmm.” a coherent sentence jumbles into bits and pieces. “What... time s’it?” 

“Like, six. Seven.” you drag yourself closer to the organic radiator by your side, feet moving into the blanket pile. “It’s Thursday. We have school.”

he twitches, stray hair brushing against your cheek. clearing his throat, as if forgetting he had a voice at all, the male yawns. “We can’t skip,” he declares tiredly. 

“Darn,” you huff, blinking up at the ceiling. your vision blurs. colours mold together, before separating again. “Thought I’d finally convince ya to not go.” 

one hand after another, he places them on the mattress, pushing himself up. the covers fall from his shoulders; there’s a glint in his eyes, fierce and unrelenting. his voice very nearly cracks.

“Never.” 

( and you melt under his tone; high pitch and waver and all. )

-

two toothbrushes in a cup, perched precariously on the edge of the sink. 

( he brought his own after one too many sleepovers that consisted of him trespassing on McCormick property at 1am. and he has one for you at his house, of course. )

_ like an old married couple _ , Karen would fondly recount to anyone willing to listen (usually Ruby. sometimes Kevin).  _ really. they should just get married already. _

and though you would never say it out loud, the thought does seem quite appealing. 

but. enough sentimentality. you should brush your teeth– preferably before the toothbrush gets shoved in your mouth for you, toothpaste in tact. 

when you squeeze the minty concoction onto your toothbrush and place it under the running tap, Tweek’s disapproval increases steeply. 

you raise both of your eyebrows, moving the object towards your mouth, painfully slow. his eye twitches. 

“God,” he gargles, spitting into the sink. the tap runs. “Wetting your toothbrush only works before you put the toothpaste on, Kenny.” 

“This is like drinking orange juice after brushing.” your words are muffled as you drag the toothbrush across your teeth in repetitive motions, looking into the mirror. “Me. I do that.” 

his reflection’s nose scrunches. “You’re going to die early.” 

( oh, if only he knew. ) 

“Would you let me though,” you snort in reply. he goes through the motions of washing up, starting with his toothbrush.

“... no.” a reluctant answer. “Of course I wouldn’t, man. That’d be fucked up.” 

he slips the toothbrush back into the cup, hands returning under the tap again. step two, wash his hands. then rinse his mouth. make sure there are no eyelashes in his eyes (hazardous), or be in any possible mortal peril.

it’s scary how you know all that. are you… too used to it? waking up with Tweek, starting your day with him– these quiet conversations during quieter mornings, when half the world seems to be asleep.

( if so, you wouldn’t mind. the world may sleep on, for all you care, as long as you get to enjoy moments like these again. ) 

somewhat placated, he steps away from the mirror. you finish up your daily waking up routine with significantly lesser paranoia than him, unsurprisingly, and finally put the toothbrush back. 

the two knock together once. twirling, before going still in the cup. two parts made whole. a complete set. 

a strange surge of fondness finds you, for the smallest of reasons. there’s only so much your heart can take. 

“Do you still have the extra clothes I keep here?” the male tugs at his collar, crumpled and slipping to one side, before looking back in the mirror. “If you don’t, I’m s- stealing your clothes.” 

“Hey now,” you raise your hands in defence, turning to face him. “No need to steal– I’d give you anything I own in a heartbeat.”

“Sappy.”

“You know it, babe.” 

when he giggles, breathless and squeaky, eyes shining from cheap fluorescent lighting, you can only laugh back, feeling as sweet as he sounds. 

( what can you say? he makes it feel as if you two are at the centre of the world, instead of in an old cramped bathroom. the two of you are bigger than life itself here. 

it’s weirdly simple when put into words. ) 

“... let’s go?” 

he opens the door, back to reality, away from an oddly domesticated scene of two teenagers starting their day together. you grin, at his side in an instant, elbow brushing against his. 

“Sure.” 

( you think this might be love, but. what do you know about that? ) 

**Author's Note:**

> i cannot believe you read this till the end.
> 
> hi, this is my first work on ao3 for the year. and yes, i know it's late. yes. i know it's february. 
> 
> this is also (coincidentally enough) my first sp fic!! while i do have my doubts about it, i think it's very cool of last month's me to finish this up– no matter how bad it is. good job. 
> 
> (yes, i procrastinated in posting) 
> 
> anyways. maybe leave a comment if you're feeling up for it. tell me what you think. 
> 
> thanks for reading!! <3


End file.
